


wake up, sunshine

by witty_kitty



Series: Bottom Wilbur Standalone Works [7]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU — Coconut2020 won the election, Anal Sex, Bottom Wilbur Soot, Grinding, M/M, Mild cockwarming at the end, Morning Sex, NO Incest; they are NOT related, Top Philza, Wilbur used to be Tommy’s babysitter; Phil is Tommy’s dad, lazy morning sex y’know how it is, purely self indulgent soft and fluffy sex where they proclaim love for eachother, thats how they know each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29879130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witty_kitty/pseuds/witty_kitty
Summary: Wilbur and Phil spend the morning in bed.It’s nice.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot/Phil Watson
Series: Bottom Wilbur Standalone Works [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048960
Comments: 25
Kudos: 142





	wake up, sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in my docs for at least a month waiting for editing, and then I forgot about it rip 
> 
> Anyways Coconut2020 definitely should have won the election send tweet

Wilbur wakes up to one leg slipping in between his own, and all he can do in his groggy, half-asleep state is instinctively grind down on it, a quiet moan slipping out of his mouth as his soft and sensitive cock brushes against someone’s thigh. He shivers as a hand slips under his loose shirt, a quiet laugh being muffled into his neck, and it takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realize that the hand and the laugh both belong to _Phil._

“Good morning, Wilbur,” the older man murmurs, keeping a tight arm around his waist. He presses kisses up the side of his neck, pausing at the top to nibble gently at the edge of his ear. 

“Morning,” Wilbur whispers back, throat still sore and scratchy from last night. It’s not the only thing that’s a bit on the sore side — his wrists are still smarting from when he had tugged and strained on the ropes a touch too hard. “Any reason you chose to wake me up like this?”

“Are you complaining?” 

“Of course not.” A particularly harsh kiss makes him bite back a moan. Phil’s body presses further into his, and it’s wonderful. “You know... it’s moments like these that make me glad I’m not president anymore.”

“How come?” 

“Other than the fact I don’t need to rush and hide all the marks you’ve left of me?” He turns his head to look at Phil, who looks _wonderful_ bathed in the early morning light, his long locks shining like spun gold, and Wilbur can’t help but reach a hand across to brush against Phil’s face. “It means I can wake up with you, ‘nd I can sleep in with you, ‘nd I can just be here with you.” 

“Love, you’re so fucking sappy,” Phil says, eyes light and affectionate. Wilbur smiles back in response, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before rolling down on his thigh. “Horny too, apparently. We just fucked last night, you know.” 

“You started it,” Wilbur giggles, though it dissolves into light, breathy moans as he continues to roll his hips into Phil’s thigh. The older man pulls him flush against his chest, his erection poking roughly at Wilbur’s back. “ _Phil,_ ” he keens, quiet and needy, and Phil groans, burying his face into Wilbur’s neck. “Phil, I’m still prepped from last night, Phil, c’mon, please—“ 

“Be patient,” he says into Wilbur’s neck, twisting a nipple, “Or I’ll leave you here and get breakfast instead.” 

“But Phi— _il!_ ” A shriek escapes his throat as Phil bites down on the junction of his neck, adding to the mess of marks littering his upper body from last night, and roughly grinding his leg up against Wilbur’s now leaking and sensitive erection. 

“I said, be patient. Can you do that, Wil?” 

“Yes, yes,” he babbles, “I can, just don’t stop, Phil, _please_.” 

“I think I like you like this,” Phil says, still moving his leg. It’s hard to concentrate, especially since he can’t see his face, but god, Wilbur tries desperately to. “Hard and begging, falling apart after just a bit of grinding... I can barely keep up with you sometimes. Maybe I should just tie you up one of these days, leave you in the streets of your little town for anyone to use. The founder of L’manberg, and the town’s personal whore. I wonder what they’d think?” 

Wilbur shudders at the thought, an involuntary whine slipping out of his mouth just at the thought of being splayed out in the street, for anyone to use... and he knows some people who certainly would take the opportunity to absolutely wreck him. “Ah...” A few tears collect at the edge of his lashes as he blinks, slipping down his cheeks and into the pillow. Every feather light touch and slow grind feels torturous on his sensitive skin, prying moans and gasps from his lips. 

“Do you like that idea?” Phil , slipping a hand over to pump at Wilbur’s erection, ”Do you want to be L’manberg’s slut for a night, Wilbur? I could set something up with President Niki.” He jolts at that, turning and staring at Phil with surprise. This isn’t just dirty talk; there’s an actual question in there. “I’ve thought about it for a while. I’ve seen the way you look at some of the others, and how they look at you, and I... well, I wouldn’t mind it.” 

Wilbur swallows. “Really?”

“Yeah, _but_ I get to watch, and it’s only for one night. They’re lucky I’m even letting them have a taste.” Phil presses a kiss to the side of his head, pulling him closer. “What do you think?” 

“I... yeah, of course, I want to, holy shit,” he nods, pleasure already boiling in his gut just from anticipation. It’s not just the idea of being used that’s making him hard. The notion that Phil will have to _watch_ , dark blue eyes focused on him as he’s used right in front of him, again and again and again... _fuck._ Wilbur can’t help but start rutting into Phil’s fist even faster, the mental image pushing him closer and closer to release. 

A broken moan escapes him as Phil suddenly lets go, moving his hands to grab him by the hips even as he squirms and jerks. “Wilbur,” he tsks disapprovingly, “Didn’t I tell you to be patient?”

“ _Phil,_ ” Wilbur whines. He knows that the blond likes it when he’s all desperate and needy, but right now it’s just annoying. “Phil, c’mon—“ Warm lips butterfly kisses across the back of his neck, occasionally pausing to suck and lick at some of the marks still sensitive from last night. “Hurry up, already!”

Phil sighs, “I’m starting to think that you’re not listening at all.” His thumbs dig into Wilbur’s hips as he holds him in place, in a way that Wilbur _knows_ that will leave bruises later, and he welcomes it whole-heartedly. “But I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that. Turn around, you little brat, I’ll give you what you want.” 

Wilbur can’t help the giddiness that bubbles up as he turns. He’s not a teenager anymore, but there has always been something about Phil that makes him feel like he’s in love for the first time all over again. “I’m taking a shower after this, you don’t have to—“ A quiet gasp escapes him as Phil sheaths himself inside, gently nipping at his ear. No matter how many times they’ve fucked, Wilbur will never get over the way Phil just seems to slot in place like he’s always supposed to be there. 

“I know, I know,” he hums, “We ran out, by the way.” Wilbur swallows back the moans that threaten to escape him as Phil slowly starts to rock into him, his dick just barely brushing against his prostate. 

“R-Really? I think— _fuck_ — think we’ll have to make a run to the stalls later,” he sitters out between pants. Phil just laughs, quiet and bright, and something warm blooms at the sound. _Prime,_ Wilbur thinks, _I love this man so much._

It’s a slow, deep clip, nothing like the rough, frantic fucking from the night before. He doesn’t mind; there’s a time and place for everything, and right now, in the soft glow of the sun and warm, comfortable sheets, it was time to take everything slow. Wilbur can feel every inch of Phil’s dick, every puff of air that brushes against his ear from where Phil rests his chin on Wilbur’s shoulder, every little detail that gets lost in the frenzy of sweaty skin and heavy breathing. 

His breath hitches as Phil grinds up into him, pressing a few kisses along the line of his neck. Another whine escapes his throat as he tries to rock back, but the firm grip on his hips keep him still. “ _Phil._ ”

“What’s wrong, Wil?” 

“Go _faster,_ Phil, c’mon—“ Phil _stops,_ so suddenly that he nearly chokes. “Phil—?” 

“That’s not how you ask for things,” the blond admonishes, holding him still even as he squirms, “You know this. Try again.” Wilbur shifts again, kicking out, and the fingers on his hips dig in, hard enough that Wilbur’s sure there’s going to be bloody crescents when they’re done. “Don’t test me, Wilbur. I can leave you here easily.”

“You wouldn’t,” Wilbur says breathlessly, brimming with confidence... that leaves him the moment Phil pulls out. “Wait, no, I’m sorry—“ 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, you brat.” The smugness practically radiates off of him. “Wanna try that again?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Wilbur apologizes between begs, “ _Please_ fuck me faster, Phil. Phil, I need _you,_ please—“ Phil suddenly gets up, and for a terrifying second, he’s convinced the man is actually going to leave him there. (It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.) 

Instead — thankfully — his lover is just changing positions, grabbing one of Wilbur’s long legs and resting it on his shoulder before sheathing himself inside with little fanfare. A yelp escapes him as Phil suddenly starts a much faster, much sharper clip than what they had earlier, driving against his prostate in a way that makes him want to _scream._ “Phil!” He clings to whatever he can — Phil’s arm, the headboard, a pillow — trying desperately to find purchase and ground himself. He can’t. 

Phil, ever the prick, laughs at his plight. “What’s wrong? I’m just giving you what you want.” He’s just as breathless as Wilbur is, voice tight as he continues to fuck into him, ears and cheeks a red, rosy hue. Sunlight filters in, illuminating the side of the blond’s face, and Wilbur can definitely see where the ‘Angel’ part in the ‘Angel of Death’ comes from. Phil looks almost ethereal, even as sweaty and flushed as he is. 

Wilbur’s erection aches, leaking and slapping against his stomach with every thrust. “C-Can I...?” He makes the pumping motion with his hand, and a wave of relief crashes over him when Phil nods. It feels like bliss, wrapping his hand around the sensitive cock and flicking his thumb over its leaking head. His pumps are erratic, barely in time with Phil’s thrusts, but he doesn’t care. 

They’re both too wound up to keep this going for long, the teasing from earlier taking its toll. Neither of them are going to last long at this rate. Moans and pleas fall from his lips as Phil’s thrusts become more and more frantic. “Phil, please, faster, please, please, please—“ The hand on his leg is going to leave bruises with how hard Phil is gripping it. (He’ll have to borrow shorts from Quackity tomorrow.)

“In or out?” His voice is rough and tight, almost gravelly, and Prime, Wilbur loves this man so much. 

“In, in, in, _please_.” 

Something hot rushes inside him, uncomfortably wet, and he nearly breaks his wrist with how fast he’s fisting his cock. Phil grinds against him as he cums, splattering the sticky white substance between them. For a few moments, they just stay there, breathing harsh and bodies trembling. And then Phil let’s go of his leg and collapses on top of him, dick sliding further inside of him. “Ah— Phil!” 

“Sorry, mate,” he says, but there’s no real remorse. “I’m just a bit tired.” 

“Old age finally getting to you—? _Shit—_ ” Wilbur swears as Phil grinds into him and pumps his limp cock, the rough callouses almost painful against his sensitive, softened length. “You can’t deny the tru— _nevermind_ , I’ll stop now, I’m sorry.”

“That’s what you get, you little shit,” he snorts, “C’mon. We need to clean up.” 

“Right now? But _Phil—_ ” 

Phil rolls his eyes at his whining, though there’s a soft smile on his face. “Alright, alright, you shit. We can stay for a few minutes more. But only for a bit. We can’t stay in bed forever.” Wilbur pouts, but he doesn’t push his luck. Phil rests his head against his chest, his own softened cock still twitching inside Wilbur, making his breath hitch. It takes him a moment to compose himself, but when he does, Wilbur is quick to run his long fingers through Phil’s soft golden hair, carefully avoiding pulling on any snags and knots.

“Hey, Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

Phil cracks a grin. “Love you too, Wil.”

**Author's Note:**

> Next work is gonna be a Schlattbur one. I gotta go back to my roots.


End file.
